Heat Stroke
by Jan Lee
Summary: [ONESHOT] Kiba doesn't think Suna could get any hotter. Obviously, he's forgotten that Temari lives there. Kiba-centric. Kiba/Tem. Citrus. Requested by Inuzuka Kiba.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Naruto.

**Rating: M,** y'all.

**A/N: **This has been a long time in the making, everyone. Hope you enjoy.

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**Heat Stroke**

**~Requested by Tucker Inuzuka~**

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The sun blazed its unblinking eye across the blue field of the sky. No wind stirred, but there was plenty on the airwaves that his hearing picked up. Birds. Insects. Pedestrian traffic. His thoughts, scattered, submerged in the muzzy veil of after-sleep, quietly coalesced. He supposed he should get out of the direct sun before he passed out from it.

Lazily, Kiba stretched, stirring from his midday powernap. The renowned dry heat in Suna felt awesome on his sore and still-coping muscles. Nothing like soaking up some rays after a hard-as-balls assignment. Beside him, Akamaru mirrored his master and prodded the ground with his foot paws before stepping out with his hind legs, hoisting his butt upwards, and curving his spine. Then the big dog licked his chops.

_Oh, yeah. _That_ was a spectacular nap,_ Akamaru barked. Then he twitched his floppy ears. Movement caught his attention and his head tilted. _Hey…isn't that the Sand chick?_

Kiba glanced aside, his nose pinpointing a vaguely familiar scent. A woman sauntered along on the marked pathway through the park. She had wild blonde hair sticking up everywhere on her head and narrow, exquisitely female eyes. And her measurements…ah_woo_ga. Kiba clamped his tongue between his teeth to prevent it rolling out from his mouth to hit his toes. As it was, her yukata showed a perfect balance of hip and sunkissed cleavage. When had she gotten so damn fine?

"Lady Temari," Kiba reminded Akamaru, "and Lord Kazekage's older sister. Show some respect, mutt."

But Akamaru was no longer at Kiba's side, and to his bemusement (or disbelieving horror as Temari carried a fan that could tear him to shreds), the dog galloped towards her and had no intention of stopping. Aw, hell. There went Akamaru, greeting her with happy yips and playful bumps into her hip. He watched, carefully assessing her reaction. Surprise there, caution, and a slight squirt of oxytocin that most people had when tamed animals were around.

She had his approval when she spread her hand out for Akamaru- -the correct reaction to unknown dogs- -and allowed Akamaru to enthusiastically lick and nuzzle her palm before scratching under his chin. The large tail thumped-thumped-thumped to the ground as she scratched the sweet spot under his chin. Kiba decided to approach, and with a friendly, "Hey, Lady Temari," caught her attention.

Her head snapped up, and the intensity of her stare sent a little shiver of anticipation through him. She had such catlike eyes, golden skin, and full, shapely lips. Kiba had to suppress a possessive growl, thinking: I'd love to taste her neck.

"You're Inuzuka Kiba," she said, her eyes clearing when she placed him. "The one Kankuro is always getting into spars with."

"That's me," he said with a wicked grin. Her features remained neutral when he flashed his canines at her. "I'm just off a mission and decided to recoup here before heading back home tomorrow."

Her head tilted. "You're visiting my brother, then?"

"Now what makes you say that?" he answered her, seeing what she'd say.

"It's practically common knowledge you've slept with my brother," Temari said. Her tone was airy, 'as if I care', but Kiba saw the ploy for what it was. It was a test to see what _he'd _do.

He smirked. "Yeah. Haven't you?"

Immediately, a wave of disgust and surprise colored her scent. She masked the feelings, though he'd offended her a bit with that, and he wondered how she'd respond; they had taken the first few moves in a game. He didn't quite know the rules she played by, mainly since she wasn't like any other kunoichi he knew, but he was affable enough to learn as he played. As far as he could tell, she liked to be the one in control, the one calling the shots. And he was cool with that.

"That's a shame," she said. Her pause was ripe with her expectation for him.

He hated to disappoint. "Oh?"

"I don't play with my brother's toys."

Kiba's smirk widened into a grin. "Sibling rivalry?"

"Call it a personal preference."

"I think yer using that as an excuse, Miss Temari of the Sand," he said, clucking her under her chin. She jerked her head away, a violent reaction in such a cool woman, but he wasn't sure if it was because she wasn't used to the touch or if she didn't like it. "I think yer hesitant to try a flavor different from Nara."

"You know what they say about assuming things," she answered. She was annoyed with him for taking a liberty, and he could practically see how her defenses hardened to ice. "Nara and I called it quits, anyway."

"Too feisty for his lazy ass?"

She frowned; not understanding how he could pin her so easily? Again, Kiba wasn't so sure. She said, "He couldn't handle being a plaything."

"Is that what men are to you? Playthings?" Despite her verbal evasions, he was getting out of her more than he expected. She must be interested in him to continue the flirting like she was. Or, he was completely on the wrong track and she was about to hit him with that sand-fan of hers.

"Perhaps." Her mouth slanted. "Or perhaps I play too rough."

Fascinating. He leaned forward, predicting that she was too proud to step away, to whisper in her ear. "When can I find out for myself?"

Casually, he turned on his heel and sauntered off, Akamaru tagging along at his heels, to leave the ball in her court. He hoped she'd take him up on the offer. A romp with Temari sounded like it could be a hellish, unforgettable ride, but one he was definitely willing to risk life and limb to take. If she didn't, no loss. They lived far apart enough and saw each other infrequently enough that her perceived insult wouldn't rankle between them. All in all, it was a damn good offer.

It was getting on late evening when a knock at the door drew Kiba up from the couch. He'd been considering ordering some food in because he was feeling lazy, and the knock had interrupted a fierce inner-battle waged between pizza and Chinese. His nose tuned in as he strode across the sparsely furnished guest quarters reserved for allies of Suna, and he grinned before he ever came near the door. Well, what do you know?

Temari stood on his welcome mat. When he peeked through the eyehole, he saw she wore a red-hot red trench coat that covered her from wrist to pretty knee. It was cinched at the waist, which made him imagine her naked curves. Heh. And she wore matching heels that showed off her spectacular calf muscles covered with fishnet. And matching lipstick. She was all gussied up, and he licked his teeth at her. It was then that he had a brilliant idea.

He called through the door, "Who is it?" He used a falsetto to sound like an old lady, hoping she'd play along. "Is that my little Red Riding Hood?"

Her cattish eyes narrowed and she glanced around as if she wasn't sure if she was at the right apartment. She looked down at herself and realization dawned over her face. She said, sweetly, with an ironic smirk, "Yes, it's Red Riding Hood. Now open up, _Grandmother_."

"Just a moment," he replied in that same voice. Quickly, he tore through the apartment's closets finding in a matter of seconds a discarded scarf and a night robe. He used the scarf to cover his head, tying it under his chin and donned the robe. Hunching over, he opened the door. "My old bones don't seem to function like they used to, Red."

From the living room, Akamaru had remained sprawled along the floor, indifferent, but Kiba heard quiet snuffing as his dog laughed at him. He could laugh all he wanted, but sex was on the line for Kiba, who could easily forgo dignity for a romp in the bedroom. Ignoring Akamaru, Kiba stepped aside, allowing for Temari to enter the apartment. More than anything he wanted to tear off that coat and get to her, but he understood her enough to allow her to make her own moves first. But his insides quivered with anticipation.

"Does my lovely granddaughter want some tea?" he asked, trembling his voice appropriately. They moved down the hall into the living room and he gestured at her to sit on the couch. "Or some biscuits after her long walk through the dangerous forest?"

Temari's lip twitched suspiciously, but she controlled her features. "No, no, Grandmother. I've come to warn you about a wolf prowling the area."

"A wolf? Oh, dearie me." He feigned horror. "You shouldn't have made the trip! Those wolves are known to ravish young girls."

"I'm always worried about my poor, sick grandmother," she replied. "Perhaps you'd better lie down in the bedroom. I know how your arthritis gets to you."

"Thank you, dearest Red Riding Hood." He hobbled to the bedroom and couldn't help the grin spreading over his face. This was way too easy. And the most fun he'd had in awhile. "Yer always thinking of my health."

"Of course. What kind of granddaughter would I be if I didn't? Time for bed," she said, flipping the covers down. Then, as though she was as innocent as a spring rain, she untied the scarf from his chin. His nose picked up the sultry smell of her skin, the scent of the sun and sand and a dark, moody fragrance that brought it home for him.

She gasped. "My, Grandmother, what big ears you have!" Then she reached up to run her fingers over the lobes and shells of his ears.

That touch had taken away his breath. "All the better to hear you with, dear."

Her thumbs traced under his eyes and outlined the clan marks on his cheeks. "And Grandmother, what big _eyes _you have!" She leaned in closer to him, and he sensed an end to their play-acting.

"All the better to _see _you with, dear."

Her cherry-colored mouth hovered near his mouth when she purred, "And Grandmother, what big teeth you have!"

He dropped the falsetto and growled. "All the better to _eat _you with!"

The kiss he landed on her was meant to be a playful one but in the middle of coaxing her mouth open, the whole thing twisted around and became serious and very, very sensual. Her tongue flicked out to stroke languid paces against his, slowing down and deepening the experience. It was probably a calculated move on her part, to get him to comply to her speed of things, so he allowed her to lead him. The kiss itself burned chemistry through him, stirring up a hunger for her that he hadn't expected, enough to for him to unknot the trench coat.

He pushed it off her shoulders, letting it crumple in a fiery pool at their feet, and he pulled back to see her. Underneath had been a matching red corset, panties, and garters holding up black thigh-high fishnet stockings. Everything looked lacy and delicious against her golden skin and he treated himself to an experimental survey with his hands. The yukata she always wore definitely hid the swell of ample breast, hips that were wide in comparison to her waist, and a tight ass. Her skin was smooth, soft, and damp with sweat from her walk over, and as he fingered the clasps to her corset, her hands plunged between the waistband of his pants and underwear to palm his growing erection.

"Hmm," she groaned as her hand teased him, "what do we have here?"

The touch had turned him hard and achy, the sensitive nerves jumping and leaping as she caressed what made him a man. He took her mouth, hard, and muttered, "All the better to _fuck_ you with."

She laughed, a low sound from her throat that did everything right for him, and freed her hand from his pants to peel off his dark long-sleeved shirt and the net shirt underneath. She studied him from under heavy eyelids painted with thick lashes, her small hands spreading over his hot skin to explore him, and with it, the scars from the battle with Ukon and Sukon that had healed over but never quite faded.

Her teeth caught her lower lip, endearing her to him, and he leaned to kiss the underside of her jaw. The scent was rich there. It flowed up into his brain and played all kinds of wild tricks to his imagination. He kissed at the spot as his fingers plucked at the garters clipped to the fishnet, traced the hem to the seam of her legs, and delved into her secret heat. She gasped, nails dug into his shoulders, and as he circled his finger over her clit, she choked out a sharp cry.

A second later, he bounced flat on the bed, where she'd shoved him. So she was a control freak in the bedroom; he grinned and didn't fight her. She climbed aboard, panting, those green eyes piercing him, and suckled a hot trail of lips and tongue over his chest, down his abdomen. When his waistband presented an obstacle, she unsnapped and unzipped and freed everything proud and burning about him to the cool air.

She contemplated him a moment. "Hmm."

Not necessarily a grunt, but close. He fixated on her red-red mouth as it closed in on his tumescence. Dear God, her breath was humid and so hot on his already burning cock, but she teased him, touched him, kissed and licked everywhere but where it would get him off, and as the thought crossed his mind to turn the tables on her, to _take _her, she sank her mouth over him and glided her tongue and lips in a firm, downward stroke.

Pleasure was all there was, her curvaceous hips and breasts in that ridiculous red corset, her green eyes intent on him. He'd never been quiet in the bedroom, and the slow slide of moist tongue over him was nearly more than he could bear. He grunted when heat-lightning struck up from his groin, gasped her name over and over, and as he was on the edge, so-so-so fucking close, she stopped and let him go.

"Goddamn, Red," he whispered and he felt the bed shift as she moved, "you've gotta dirty mouth."

"Tut-tut, Wolfie. You should know better to insult a lady when the Huntsman's around," she told him.

The insult was nothing. With a vengeance, he pounced, rolling her so that she was pinned under him. He growled from his chest, a feral sound meant to warn. Still, her eyes calculated, had control over him. A wicked thought came to mind and he reached to the floor, where he disentangled the coat's belt from its loops. She must've seen his idea and she mock-struggled. He overpowered her.

"If you think you can get away with this, Mr. Wolf," she spat, fairly hissing at him, "you've got another thing coming. I'll make you regret ever eating me!"

A few loops and loose ties later, he had her wrists bound to the headboard. "I think you'll be worth eating, little Red Riding Hood." Again, he growled and bared his teeth. "As sweet as you are."

With leisure he didn't feel, he unhooked the corset to free her breasts to his seeking mouth. They were full, heavy, and too beautiful for words. He nipped the smooth skin, brushed the sensitive nipples with calloused hands, smelt her woman's scent grow more powerful by the second. She squirmed under him and groaned, spreading her legs so he could taste her heat and as she had worked him into a frenzy, he reciprocated until she shook and shivered and screamed at him to fuck her hard, fuck her _now_.

He paused a moment to roll on a condom, planted his hands on her hips, and roughly speared her. Inside she was ready and tight to the core. Her reaction was what he needed to spur him into a galloping pace; her back was arched, her arms straining at the bonds, breasts jumping as he fucked her like she'd demanded. There was nothing gentle, nothing kind between them, and he became as feral as his growl suggested. He was so deep, the ecstasy was rising into a tension that promised a molten release, and as he pumped her harder, faster, rougher, she threw her head back into the pillows, coming uncontrollably, shrieking like a banshee.

It was enough for him and he tightened his muscles- -heat fused inside him, opening him to his own orgasm, a pulsing, a shudder and he was finished.

They both panted from their exertions. "That was good," she said. "At least, for the Big Bad Wolf."

He huffed a laugh. "You are Red _Riding_ Hood." Brain a little soupy, he separated from her, untied her and they cleaned up. He sort of wanted her to stay and keep him company the night. He really hoped he wasn't having attachment issues. That would be dangerous. So, casually, as he pulled up his boxers, he asked, "You planning on staying tonight? Maybe go for round two?"

Temari shook her head, her green eyes clear and hard, cool emeralds set in glowing skin. "No. I've got an early start tomorrow. But hey, it was fun while it lasted."

He nodded and helped her into the coat. "I know you'll probably castrate me for asking"- -he caught her quick, amused glance and continued anyway- -"but if you want I can walk you home."

"No, you don't need to. I've got the perfect Big Bad Wolf deterrent," she told him. When he gave her a quizzical look, she said, "Me."

"I was thinking your brothers. You know, one's a sand demon, the other plays with dolls? Pretty scary, if you ask me."

Wanly, she smiled at him. "Nothing's ever gonna be as scary as me."

She opened the door and stepped into the dark cloak of the night. He listened to her heels click on the pavement, breathed deep the trail of seductive scent in her wake, and when both faded, he closed the door. The apartment was too quiet without her, too sparse and boring. Akamaru had sacked out on the cool kitchen tile. Kiba slipped between the covers of the rumpled bed. She hadn't even said goodbye.

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**A/N:** Tucker Inuzuka, you deserve this most of all. Thanks for your patience and for prodding me, and I can't believe I didn't post this sooner. =)


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